Nothing Left
by HoleInTheWorld
Summary: You quickly realize this is the first time he’s touched you since your best friend’s funeral. LoVe.
1. Chapter 1

Nothing Left

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Not even the computer I wrote it on.

Summary: You quickly realize this is the first time he's touched you since your best friend's funeral.

Feedback: Reviews are fun. Like a barrel of monkeys. Why anyone would put monkeys in a barrel…I don't know, but it's supposedly a lot of fun.

A/N: I know we're not supposed to post stuff written in second person, but it didn't flow right in any other POV.

--

You slam the door of the LeBaron and let your eyes scan the building in front of you. You know that if life was the way it should be, today would be like any other day and you wouldn't have to hesitate before walking through the doors of Neptune High. You'd have a smile on your face and a mental list of stories and gossip to tell your friends.

You stare for another minute then let out a sigh. Life's not the way it should be. Today is not any other day. And you don't have any friends. So you square your shoulders, steel your resolve, and try not to think of a year ago when instead of going to school you donned your nicest black dress and spent the day with a group of people who would have preferred you were the one being lowered into the ground.

A glance to your left reveals the one person you are positive you don't want to see today, so you start walking, praying he won't follow you. But you don't actually expect anything to go your way, especially not today, so of course the sound of feet against pavement follows all the way to your locker.

The slight pressure of fingers circling your forearm makes your skin tingle in a way you haven't felt in a really long time, and you quickly realize this is the first time he's touched you since your best friend's funeral.

--

You step out of your dad's car and suddenly you're swimming in a sea of black suits and angry stares because someone else confessed and your dad lost his job, and to you the only option was standing by him, because he's your father and he's the one who's always been there.

And right now you're at that place again where you only have one option, so you put up with the looks and the whispers and the turned backs because, dammit, she was your_ best friend_, and that's so much more important than keeping the rest of your heart from breaking when the people you thought loved you refuse to even look at you.

Your eyes finally land on the open casket, but you know that can't be _your_ Lilly because she is quiet, and modest, and tranquil. And with all the time Lilly spent being as loud and flashy as possible, you know that not even death could do that to her.

Someone steps up beside you, but this is the last time you'll ever see your best friend so there's no chance you're going to look away. Because looking away feels like loss all over again.

You are so beyond surprised when a warm hand slips into yours, but you're not about to lose this lifeline so you hold on with everything you have. And you don't question the fact that yesterday he was determined to make your life a living hell, or that tomorrow will be undoubtedly the same, because he's here – now – and that's enough.

--

He spins you around and you open your mouth, ready to return whatever barb he throws your way, but he's silent and the look in his eyes keeps you from throwing any at him.

His hand links with yours and as he's pulling you back towards the parking lot you realize all the time you spent convincing yourself to get in the car this morning was for naught, because apparently you're not going to school anyway.

You bite your tongue when he stops next to the yellow monstrosity he calls a car and wordlessly open the door and climb in, dropping your bag at you feet as you wait for him to join you.

--

You don't notice that the ceremony is over until your ex-boyfriend comes over and nudges _his_ best friend whose eyes are still locked on the six foot deep hole in the ground.

When he shifts his attention, his hand starts to slide from yours and this panicked feeling slams into your stomach so hard that you have to physically stop yourself from throwing yourself at him and begging him to never let go of you. The panic turns to relief a second later when you realize he was just adjusting his grip so he could lace your fingers together.

You listen as your ex whispers about a gathering at the Kane estate which you are positive only one of you – definitely not you – is invited to. Then without so much as a glance in your direction, he turns and disappears back into the sea of black.

You had to use all your willpower to keep the tears at bay throughout the entire funeral, but one dead best friend plus one ex who can completely ignore your existence while he stands not two feet away equals way more than you can handle. So as soon as Duncan is gone, you jerk your hand roughly from Logan's and run to you father's car, praying he can do something, anything, to make this better.

--

The downpour you remember hearing through your window last night makes the grass beneath your feet squish with every step. You look over to where he's walking next to you. Head down. Hands in pockets. Feet squishing. He looks up when he feels your gaze on him and one hand immediately leaves his pocket to reach for yours.

You stop walking the second his fingers lace with yours because you're in the exact same place and he's touching you the exact same way, and every single thing you felt a year ago is just as strong today.

You look away from him and your eyes land on her headstone. _Lillian Kane. Beloved daughter, sister, and friend. _She was so much more than that. And when you feel the tightening of his fingers in yours, you know Logan is thinking the same thing.

He shifts his gaze to you again and you wonder how he can stand to look away from her when it almost kills you. It only takes you a second to realize it's because while _he_ lost Lilly, you lost everything. Your friends, your mother, your innocence.

Your entire life disappeared in a whirlwind of bloody ashtrays, lost jobs, and missing underwear.

You close your eyes and you can see your best friend right in front of you (happy, laughing, _alive_) and it breaks your heart. And you haven't let anyone see you cry since that morning spent in the sheriff's office with no memory of the night before. But you know you won't hear about it tomorrow in Neptune High's gossip circle – you have an unspoken promise that today is off limits – so you let down the barriers.

You count the one, two, three, four seconds it takes for his arms to come around you. He hasn't hugged you since – Lilly, Duncan – ever. It takes longer than you care to count (minutes? hours?) for the tears to subside. Once your sniffling is under control, you ease away from Logan and wipe the remaining wetness from your cheeks.

Your gaze finally – _finally_ – stray from the last place you ever saw Lilly, and locks with Logan's. He's staring at you like you're the only thing in the world. And it hurts that much more when you remember that tomorrow you'll trade hand holding for fiery insults and flat tires.

You bite your lip and look away.

Just because everything's different doesn't mean anything has changed.


	2. What If

Nothing Left

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it. Not even the computer I wrote it on. I have my own laptop now.

Summary: You quickly realize this is the first time he's touched you since your best friend's funeral.

Feedback: Reviews are fun. Like a barrel of monkeys. Why anyone would put monkeys in a barrel…I don't know, but it's supposedly a lot of fun.

**A/N: **So, way back when I first wrote this story I signed up for a 'What If?' challenge on livejournal and ended up not finishing my entry. Then it sat on my computer for a couple years until the other day when I stumbled across it and figured 'Why not?' This chapter is set the same time as the first but based on the question 'What if Veronica didn't allow Logan to comfort her?'

You don't even make the effort to fake any symptoms when you tell your father you're too sick to go to school. You know he doesn't believe you, but your only other absence was in the beginning of October, so he lets it go. You stare at your ceiling until the sounds of his car disappear down the road then turn on your side and bring your knees up to your chest. If life was the way it should be, today would be like any other day, and you'd be standing outside of Neptune High with a smile on your face and a mental list of stories and gossip to tell your friends.

You blink away the image then let out a sigh. Life's not the way it should be. Today is not any other day. And you don't have any friends. So you throw your blankets on the floor, climb to your feet, and try not to think of that fact that a year ago today you donned your nicest black dress and pretended that most of the people around you wouldn't have preferred you were the one being lowered into the ground.

Despite the fact that he failed to cover his fatherly concern with an attempt at humor, the note left on the counter almost makes you smile. You're reading it for a third time when you hear a knock at the door. You'd ignore it if not for the fact that you honestly can't think of anyone who would be at your door.

The second you open it you realize that saying about curiosity actually has some merit. It takes you exactly three more seconds to slam it in his face. Or to at least try to. Because his foot is in the way and then he's inside the apartment before you can do anything about it.

And you know that short of calling the sheriff, you can't actually make him leave. You don't really think that situation is any more preferable, but you reach for the phone anyway.

The slight pressure of fingers circling your forearm makes your skin tingle in a way you haven't felt in a really long time, and you quickly realize this is the first time he's touched you since your best friend's funeral.

You step out of your dad's car and suddenly you're swimming in a sea of black suits and angry stares because someone else confessed and your dad lost his job, and to you the only option was standing by him, because he's your father and he's the one who's always been there.

And right now you're at that place again where you only have one option, so you put up with the looks and the whispers and the turned backs because, dammit, she was your _best friend_, and that's so much more important than keeping the rest of your heart from breaking when the people you thought loved you refuse to even look at you.

Your eyes finally land on the open casket, but you know that can't be _your_ Lilly because she is quiet, and modest, and tranquil. And with all the time Lilly spent being as loud and flashy as possible, you know that not even death could do that to her.

Someone steps up beside you, but this is the last time you'll ever see your best friend so there's no chance you're going to look away.

You are so beyond surprised when a warm hand slips into yours that, for a second, you actually consider holding on to him. But then he leans into you and lets out a ragged breath, and it's all too much. You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel that familiar stinging, but you knew it was a mistake before you did it, because ever since that night all you ever see when you close your eyes is that broken body next to the pool.

When you open them, you're facing him, and he's staring at you like he needs you. And you find out it's possible to forget how to breathe.

After a minute, your lungs start to hurt, so you pull your hand from his and give him one last look that all but screams _I'm not strong enough for this_, before you run to your father's car, praying he can do something, anything, to make this better.

You drop the phone when he spins you around and you open your mouth, ready to return whatever barb he throws your way, but he's silent and the look in his eyes keeps you from throwing any at him.

The whole thing turns into some sort of morbid staring contest, and you're not about to break first. Finally, he blinks and you can't help but feel victorious. "Do you know what today is?"

You tear your arm away from him and give him the coldest look you can muster. Of course you know what today is.

Unfazed by your glare, he explains that he doesn't mean in reference to Lilly. And you can't, for the life of you, figure out what that means because as far as you're concerned, Lilly is the only thing that matters today. But he keeps talking, and you realize that was your mistake.

"Today is the day I started to hate you." You almost make a mental note to ask your best friend if he was two weeks late for every anniversary. But then you find out he's got his dates right, and you hate him for being so damn selfish.

So, you curse at him and almost scream what you couldn't make yourself say a year ago. _I was too broken to fix you._

His voice cracks and his eyes fill with tears when he tells you that he didn't want you to fix him. "I just wanted you to be there and you couldn't even do that."

A million excuses are swirling around your head, but every one of them sounds too flimsy to turn into words. When you don't reply, he starts to walk away, but suddenly your hand is in his and you're pulling him out the door, towards the parking lot.

You unlock your car and for the first time since you got it, he doesn't make one comment about what a piece of crap it is. You climb in then wordlessly wait for him to join you.

You know the instant the ceremony is over, because your phone starts to vibrate on your nightstand. And part of you – the rapidly disappearing part that defined you as Lilly's best friend and Duncan's girlfriend – tells you to pick it up, to try to salvage this last shred of _before._ But the rest of you – the _bitchsluttraitor_ who has spitballs in her hair and spray paint on her locker – rolls over and wishes for it to just end.

He calls back in three minute intervals for the next half hour and leaves as many messages.

Once you can count nine minutes without the now familiar buzz of plastic against wood, you pick up the phone and quickly dial the memorized number.

Eight seconds later your voicemail is empty and you're scrolling past the names of dozens of people who used to be your friends. You stop when you get to Lilly's and trace the letters with your eyes over and over until you can't ignore the fact that an hour ago you saw the same letters carved in stone. With a quiet sob you move to the next name and act without hesitation.

His name disappears and you force yourself to pretend you don't know the number by heart. It doesn't make you feel any better, but it doesn't make you feel worse either, so you figure that's something.

The downpour you remember hearing through your window last night makes the grass beneath your feet squish with every step. You look over to where he's walking next to you. Eyes guarded. Arms crossed. Feet squishing. He looks up when he feels your gaze on him and you hold out a hand for his.

You stop walking the second his fingers lace with yours because you're in the exact same place and he's touching you the exact same way, and every single thing you felt a year ago is just as strong today.

You both look away, eyes landing on the only thing left of your best friend. Pristine grey marble that is such a contrast to the larger-than-life Lilly in your head you want to cry.

Logan heaves out a shaky breath and your fingers tighten around his. "I'm here." It might be too little, too late, but it's all you have to give.

You're more broken now than you were a year ago; your entire life having disappeared in a whirlwind of bloody ashtrays, lost jobs, and missing underwear. But he doesn't know that, so you think that maybe you can be this person. The one who hold his hand in the middle of a cemetery and lets him pretend his whole life hasn't fallen apart.

The wetness on his cheeks glints brightly under the sun, but the tension in his body seems to ease just a little at your words. "Okay."

And you meant it when you said you couldn't fix him, but maybe being this for him is enough. And maybe it's exactly what you need to start putting yourself back together.


End file.
